


with the current

by doxian



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bottom Iwaizumi Hajime, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Friends With Benefits, Future Fic, Gift Exchange, M/M, Roommates, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:46:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxian/pseuds/doxian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was going to take a bath.”</p><p>Akaashi arches an eyebrow. Way to state the obvious, it seems to say.</p><p>“You could join me. If you wanted to.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	with the current

**Author's Note:**

  * For [staticsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticsky/gifts).



Iwaizumi is dead on his feet upon reaching home. When he stops fumbling with his fingers long enough to jam the key into the lock of his apartment and open the door, the tiredness hits him all at once. It’s the kind of tiredness that’s bone-deep, born from trying to do work that should have been spread out over days, not concentrated into hours. (Class in the morning, a function he’d had to set up for and break down in the afternoon, and revision for an upcoming exam after _that_. His brain and body both feel like mush.)

He gets the front door open. The apartment is quiet and all the lights are out. Akaashi must not be home yet - Iwaizumi’s roommate for close up to a year, now. (Akaashi had decided to look for a roommate to cut down on rent, Iwaizumi had been planning his move to Tokyo after enrolling in a master's of science degree in physiotherapy, a mutual friend had introduced them. Iwaizumi was surprised at how well it had worked out.)

Iwaizumi takes the liberty of abandoning shoes, bag and clothes in a messy trail across the living room. He's eager to wash away the day's sweat and dust, so he immediately switches on the light and the tap to the tub in the bathroom, letting it fill up with water. He stops by his room long enough to grab a towel and wrap it around his waist, then he’s heading back to the bathroom. 

“Ah, Iwaizumi-san, you’re home.”

Iwaizumi comes to a stop in the corridor between his bedroom and the bathroom. Akaashi is straightening up next to the front door, having just carefully set down his camera bag and the bags containing his larger pieces of equipment - a tripod and reflectors, probably - against the wall next to the small cabinet that holds their shoes. 

“Yeah, just got back.” 

Akaashi seems just about as tired as Iwaizumi is. He looks past Iwaizumi to the bathroom. The rumble of water filling the tub is almost loud in the silence of the apartment.

“Oh,” Iwaizumi says, “were you going to—”

“It’s alright, you go ahead.” 

Akaashi shifts his attention to Iwaizumi himself. He’s slowly raking his eyes over Iwaizumi’s form from head to toe, making no effort to hide it, and Iwaizumi is suddenly very aware of how short his towel is. He reminds himself that he’s been naked and almost-naked around other men before, countless times, in showers and in locker rooms. Hell, he’s been naked around _Akaashi_ before. This is no different. 

Still, the way Akaashi is looking at him has the back of his neck burning hot, with pleasure as well as with self-consciousness, and maybe that’s why, when Akaashi turns to head into the kitchen area instead, Iwaizumi clears his throat and calls out to him. 

“I was going to take a bath.”

Akaashi arches an eyebrow. _Way to state the obvious_ , it seems to say. 

“You could join me. If you wanted to.” 

He doesn’t linger long enough to hear Akaashi’s response, disappearing into the bathroom and allowing himself the luxury of a deep breath once he’s sure the door has shut behind him. 

There’s still a while to go before the bathtub fills up, so Iwaizumi settles on the edge of it to wait, the tiredness that was creeping under his skin driven out by adrenaline.

The first time he and Akaashi had hooked up, it hadn't been planned. Akaashi was showing some of his more artistic photography at an exhibition at a small gallery in their neighborhood, there was an opening party, Akaashi had invited him. They'd both had a little too much to drink, and Akaashi had ended up waylaying him on the way to the bathroom, pressing Iwaizumi against the wall and kissing him. After they’d left the party - abandoning the stragglers to revel until the last trains began to depart for the night - Akaashi had fucked him over the arm of their couch hard enough to burn through the fog of alcohol, leaving behind an indelible image that Iwaizumi inevitably finds himself returning to, again and again, when he jerks off. 

Their relationship hadn't changed much, afterwards. Iwaizumi had never pictured sleeping with a roommate, would undoubtedly have concluded that it was a terrible idea if he’d taken any time to think about it, but after all is said and done Akaashi is possibly the best person he could have ever done something like this with. Akaashi, like Iwaizumi, is practical, level-headed, good enough at compartmentalizing that their impromptu night of passion hadn’t gotten in the way of their sharing the same living space. 

Iwaizumi had intended for that to be the only time, but he’d come back irritable and frustrated after a difficult midterm one evening, and it was easy to let it happen again. And again. Soon, it became merely another addition to their usual routine. Complain about their mutual job or school stress; burn it off with Akaashi climbing into Iwaizumi’s lap and grinding into him. Stay in on a Friday to watch a movie when they're both too lazy to go out with their friends; fuck languidly on the couch. Finish grocery shopping for the week; make out against the kitchen counter. 

It had never been like _this_ , though. Iwaizumi asking Akaashi to bathe with him seems almost too involved, too intimate. 

The bath finishes filling up. Iwaizumi hangs up his towel, turns off the water, and gets into the tub. Enough time has passed that Akaashi has most likely decided not to come, which is fine. No point getting all torn up about it, especially when it's not like this means anything more than what they'd done together already. 

So he relaxes, leaning back and sinking deeper into the tub. The water makes it easy - still rippling around him from when he'd stepped in, sluicing away the dirt from his skin. He closes his eyes. By the time he hears the bathroom door open he’s begun to drift off. 

Iwaizumi cracks open one eye to glance at Akaashi. 

“I put some rice on to cook for us,” he says, by way of explanation as to the delay. 

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi says with a nod. 

Akaashi starts taking off his clothes. There’s absolutely no fanfare to the act, but his movements possess a certain kind of elegance, and Iwaizumi sits up a little straighter as Akaashi sweeps his shirt over his head, unbuckles and pushes down his jeans followed by his underwear. If Akaashi can feel Iwaizumi's eyes on him, he doesn't react to it. The tub is big enough that he could easily sit opposite Iwaizumi, leaving ample room for both of them to stretch out their legs, but after a few moments of consideration he steps into the water and insinuates himself between Iwaizumi's thighs instead, leaning against his chest with a sigh.

Iwaizumi swallows, tries not to tense up at the feeling of Akaashi's warm body against his. 

“Rough day?” At least he can keep his voice under enough control that it doesn't waver when he speaks. 

Akaashi just hums in response. The hair at the base of his neck is wet and sticking to his skin, gentle waves coiling up into curls, but most of it is still dry and soft in spite of how sweaty it must have gotten over the course of the day. 

“Hand me the shampoo?”

Akaashi looks at Iwaizumi from over his shoulder, eyes at half-mast, his eyelashes dark against his skin. 

“Are you going to wash my hair?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi wilfully ignores the way his stomach has been threatening to transform into effervescence ever since Akaashi had sat down in front of him, ever since Akaashi had come home. “That alright?” 

Akaashi passes the bottle to Iwaizumi before turning around again, bowing his head a little almost in expectation of Iwaizumi's hands on him.

“That's very kind of you, Iwaizumi-san. Go ahead.”

Iwaizumi isn't sure it's kindness so much as it is selfish desire on his part, but he doesn't say anything, just squeezes some shampoo into his hand before setting the bottle down on the rim of the tub. As he rubs the shampoo into a lather in Akaashi's hair, Akaashi tells him about his day: his work for today had been an editorial shoot focusing on a young, up-and-coming fashion model who had just gotten signed to do a bit part in a new drama - nothing Akaashi hadn’t dealt with before. Everything should have gone completely smoothly, but somehow minor setback had stacked up upon minor setback, from the magazine editors neglecting to apply for a permit to shoot at the location they’d chosen to a gaggle of fans recognizing the model and kicking up enough of a fuss to draw a small crowd. 

Iwaizumi mostly just listens, doing a thorough job of massaging the shampoo into Akaashi’s hair and working his fingers into his scalp. He unhooks the shower head and rinses away the bubbles once he’s done, and it’s easy to automatically go for the liquid soap and sponge after that.

Akaashi seems amused.

“You like doing this,” he says. “Taking care of people.” 

“Only certain people,” he says with a shrug. He could point out that Akaashi is much the same as him in that respect, but instead he just puts soap on the sponge and rubs it over Akaashi’s chest and stomach, his shoulders, his back. He’s as thorough as he was with Akaashi’s hair, scrubbing in a way that’s more utilitarian than erotic, but it still doesn’t take long until he’s hard against Akaashi’s back, his dick nudging against the soft, smooth skin there. Akaashi must be able to feel it, but if anything he just encourages it, leaning more heavily on Iwaizumi’s chest, his head falling back against Iwaizumi’s shoulder and impeding any more scrubbing Iwaizumi might have thought of doing. So Iwaizumi abandons the sponge along with the pretence of getting Akaashi clean and sets the oblong of foam in the metal bathtub caddy so he can move both his hands up Akaashi’s thighs. When his hand finds Akaashi’s cock Akaashi _sighs_ , right against Iwaizumi’s ear. He’s soft when Iwaizumi first touches him but he stiffens to half-hardness in a matter of strokes. 

“Mmm. Iwaizumi-san.” 

Akaashi turns on his front so he can kiss him, sending the water into cresting waves that splash up all around them. It’s _warm_ , so warm, even with the coolness of the water, and Iwaizumi sucks and bites at the plush of Akaashi’s lip, running his hands down his back to cup his butt. Akaashi licks into Iwaizumi’s mouth to slide their tongues together. When he finally breaks the kiss, he asks Iwaizumi to swap places with him. 

They maneuver themselves with low laughter and a little awkwardness, and then Akaashi is laying on his back with Iwaizumi straddling his hips. He doesn’t move for a moment, seeming to drink Iwaizumi in. His fingers follow the same path as his gaze, tracing the lines of his hips, abs, chest. When he reaches his shoulders he pulls Iwaizumi back down for another kiss. 

Iwaizumi brackets Akaashi with his arms, leaning over him, continuing to kiss him like that. Akaashi’s hands keep wandering his body, like he can’t stop himself from touching him, and soon Iwaizumi’s breath is hitching as Akaashi’s fingers brush against his cock, wrapping around the base and squeezing, trailing down to cup Iwaizumi’s balls, trailing even lower to rub and press against his perineum. Iwaizumi’s breath comes in quick, staccato pants, and he shifts closer so he can trap both their cocks between the skin of their stomachs. Akaashi’s eyes are fixed on Iwaizumi, his pupils blown. He doesn’t stop moving his hand, ignoring their cocks in favor of dragging hot pressure along Iwaizumi’s perineum, teasingly circling his asshole, dipping the phalanx of one finger in dry.

Iwaizumi squirms and groans into Akaashi’s neck, grinding their cocks together. 

“Iwaizumi-san,” Akaashi breathes, and Iwaizumi doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of hearing Akaashi say his name in that rough, wanting tone, even if he does still insist on tacking the _-san_ at the end of it. “Let me fuck you.” 

Iwaizumi swallows. Even though they’ve done this plenty of times before, there’s something different about it now. The tension in the air is as thick as the humidity and Iwaizumi feels as though he's standing on an edge that threatens to overtip the comfortable equilibrium they’ve established. 

“I thought you said you were tired.”

“So considerate,” Akaashi murmurs, nosing the shell of Iwaizumi’s ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and biting down, making Iwaizumi gasp. “But I think I’ve gotten my second wind.” 

“Okay,” Iwaizumi says, and then: “ _Yes_.” 

“Not like this.” Akaashi pinches his thigh. “Can you get out?” 

Iwaizumi obeys, standing up and stepping out of the tub, dripping water onto the bath mat. His fingers are all pruney from the time they’d spent in the water. Akaashi quickly rinses the soap off of himself before following, and then his hands are immediately on Iwaizumi again, taking him by the hips and steering him, gently yet firmly, so that he’s leaning on the edge of the counter that the sink is set into. 

“Like this?” Iwaizumi says. In this position he’s looking straight into the mirror at his own reflection, which isn’t _bad_ exactly but it is a little uncomfortable. 

“Not quite,” says Akaashi, and pushes down on his upper back with the same gentle pressure until he’s arched over the sink. 

Iwaizumi spreads his legs a little, shifting so that he’s more balanced. There's the _click_ of their bottle of lube opening, and then Akaashi's fingers are in him. Iwaizumi can feel the warm stretch from just two fingers alone. He tries to get himself to relax and stop clenching down. Akaashi is patient, twisting his fingers, working Iwaizumi open until he slides inside with no resistance and Iwaizumi is gasping. 

“I’m good,” Iwaizumi gets out after Akaashi has added a third. Akaashi hesitates, like he’s thinking of double-checking, but he ultimately takes Iwaizumi’s word for it and takes his fingers out, leaving Iwaizumi empty.

Iwaizumi curls and uncurls his fingers on the coldness of the countertop. The lube is sticky along the crack of his ass and smeared between his legs. The moment from now to when Akaashi is going to be in him seems to stretch on for ages, but then Akaashi is resting his hands on Iwaizumi’s ass to steady himself, lets his erection rub between Iwaizumi’s cheeks for a moment, and then he’s pressing in. Iwaizumi’s perception narrows to Akaashi’s single quiet inhale, to the blunt head of Akaashi’s cock coaxing and holding him open. 

“You’re so tight. You need to relax.” Not dirty talk, just a blunt statement of fact. Akaashi’s voice is still flat and dry like it always is, but it’s already a little ragged at the edges and Iwaizumi feels precome gathering at the tip of his cock from the sound of it. He focuses on his breathing, and Akaashi’s hands move soft and comforting over his skin, and on his next thrust Akaashi pushes all the way inside him. 

Akaashi’s gaze is heavy. Even though he wasn’t planning to, Iwaizumi ends up looking at the mirror. He catches sight of his own face at first, and has a momentary impression of bitten lips, of his brows drawn up into a furrow, before his eyes land on Akaashi’s face. Akaashi is staring at the place where they’re connected, admiring the planes of Iwaizumi’s back, and when he catches Iwaizumi looking at him he _smiles_ , slow and satisfied, like they’re sharing a secret. _See. I told you this was a good idea._

He has to tear his gaze away on Akaashi’s next thrust - it’s hard and heavy and shoves a short, sharp noise out of Iwaizumi’s mouth. He doesn’t watch Akaashi anymore, just listens to the soft slap of Akaashi’s hips against his ass and the wet sounds of Akaashi plunging into him, again and again. He thinks about how Akaashi can probably see his face like this, can see every time his lips press together and every time his eyes squeeze shut. And then Akaashi’s rhythm starts to get erratic and Iwaizumi shifts, trying to get Akaashi to grind against his prostate at least _once_ before he comes, but he can’t quite get the angle right. Akaashi brushes past the point Iwaizumi wants him to hit, once, twice, but he makes up for it by taking Iwaizumi’s cock in his hand, rubbing wet slickness along the length of him, closing his hand and squeezing hot pressure slow and sweet from base to tip. He drapes himself over Iwaizumi, licks away some droplets of water or sweat from his shoulder, and when Iwaizumi’s orgasm hits it’s not from Akaashi’s hand on him but from the spill of Akaashi’s come and from Akaashi biting down sharp and sudden on his shoulder. 

Akaashi strokes him through it as his body quakes, as he gets his breath back. He stays in Iwaizumi for a while after, seemingly reluctant to pull out, but eventually he does and Iwaizumi takes a few seconds to splay over the counter and settle back into himself. 

There’s a loud sucking noise of water draining away once he straightens up. Akaashi is sitting on the edge of the bath, having pulled the plug on the now soapy, dirty water. 

“Guess you’ll be wanting another bath after this,” he deadpans, grabbing a fresh towel hanging from the rack opposite and drying off his hair. 

Iwaizumi huffs a laugh.

“I think I’ll just take a shower.” 

Akaashi takes one after him so that he can properly get clean, and Iwaizumi goes into the kitchen with fresh clothes and wet hair. The rice has already cooked, and by the time Akaashi finishes his shower Iwaizumi has put potatoes and carrots on to boil and is frying up some onions. 

Akaashi doesn’t say anything. He ambles over to lean against the counter and watches Iwaizumi with this gentle look that Iwaizumi can’t quite read. He’s about to say something just to break the silence when Akaashi moves to stand beside him and kisses him, again, quick and tender. Iwaizumi can’t move for the spatula and saucepan handle in his hands. By the time he's fumbled to turn the stove off, Akaashi has already pulled away. He gets out a box of curry sauce from the pantry, chicken from the fridge, and as they finish preparing dinner together Iwaizumi wonders when they’d begun to fit into each other’s lives so easily. 

They eat on the couch, lounging back against the cushions with their bowls in their hands. Iwaizumi flips through channels until he finds something not terrible to watch. Akaashi leans his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder after they’re done eating, and Iwaizumi feels it again - that strange tension. He slings an arm around Akaashi, presses a kiss to his temple, and decides that he's committed to this. He might not say anything to Akaashi now, might not for a while, but he's looking forward to seeing how their relationship shifts next.


End file.
